One Last Look
by Lila Terri
Summary: It's time for Legolas to let go of his childhood. Growing up isn't easy, luckily he has friends to help him get through it. T. OC pairing, mostly clean...Um, evil twin schemes
1. Prologue A day of Mirth

**One last Look **

**Prolouge; A day of Mirth**

"Legolas," King Thranduil, king of Mirkwood, called softly to his son, who was dozing under an old cherry tree, his golden sun-kissed hair flaring out in the wind.

Elves were light sleepers, and Legolas awoke at once, taking one look at the book in his hands and shutting it with an air of tiredness. "Yes Father?" the Prince asked, gazing up at the magnificent king.

"It is late. Look, the sun is already gone to bed," Thranduil answered, gesturing at the dim horizon. It was not dark because of the many torches lined up amongst the trees to give light to the Elven realm. Legolas nodded at his father understandingly and rose, still looking tired and somewhat stiff.

"What troubles you, ion nin?" (my son). Thranduil questioned, searching the young elf's face beseechingly.

"Tomorrow will come quickly, will it not?" Legolas' voice carried out a mere whisper across the breeze, but it was enough for his father to understand, well, everything. His coming-of-age-ceremony was in two days' time; tomorrow was his last day as a child. He was five-hundred years old, and even in Elven years, no longer a child.

"Ion nin," Thranduil sighed, "it is a day of Mirth, you know. One that you will never forget. But it is also a day of profound emotions and sadness." The king swept over the porch and embraced his son, whispering, "but above all else, it is the day my first-born becomes a warrior."

"I do not want to kill, Ada," Legolas whimpered. "I do not have the heart."

"Neither do I, or Lord Elrond, or even Manwe himself. But do no think of it. When you are older," Legolas stiffened at the word, "you will learn how to kill without injuring one's soul. You will become a true Elvish Prince, Legolas Thranduillion. And it will be as you mother said, you will be the strongest of the elves. Now go and take rest."

Legolas' heart, for the first time in ages, truly took rest that night. His father's words had helped to—no, not wipe away—but bandage his fear of war.

Those who had gone through the same as him know, that it is often those who kill sparingly that are given the right to do so, and that those who do not desire power deserve it.

**Well, R&R if you want the next chapter. This was short, I know but it's just a prologue **


	2. Changed

Chapter 1;

"Princess Arwen," King Thranduil leapt down the steps to embrace the lovely elleth. He regarded her as a niece, but of course, they were not blood-related. He was a wood elf, and she hailed from Rivendell.

"My lord, it has been so long since we have crossed paths," Arwen greeted, and her smile lit up the darkening room. It was past midnight now, but the king had had lanterns lit, and insisted on awaiting his son's friends' arrival. "My brothers will come soon, I think. Glorfindel had them take the horses to the shelter. Lirael has fallen asleep, and he is looking after her."

Thranduil's tired face broke into a smile at word of the sweet, tree-loving girl. She was also from Rivendell, but shared a special love for nature, much like the young prince. "Well, it has been a long way. How do things fare in Lord Elrond's house?" Thranduil motioned for Arwen to sit down beside him on a pile of golden cushions that were scattered on a dark red carpet. Arwen sat gratefully, feeling her tense legs relax wonderfully beneath her.

Before she could answer, however, two dark-haired identical boys burst in. "Ro," one of them chortled, his lively voice carrying like music across the quiet room, "d'you think Lei will notice anything odd about Seroin tomorrow?"

"Nah," the other one replied, "Besides, it's just a little mud! And he's a horse; he's bound to get dirty somehow!"

"But she'll have a fit in the morning," Arwen interjected, looking murderous. "You know she likes to keep him clean! Why do you ALWAYS find ways to ruin things for her?"

"Elrohir, Elladan!" Thranduil chuckled to hear his friend, Glorfindel's scolding voice. The two elves were very dear old friends, and both at that moment were wondering how it was that even at the latest of hours, the two boys could bear such mischievous looks on their faces."

"What?" the two ellens answered simultaneously, sounding innocent and childlike.

"You know what," Glorfindel stepped in carrying a dark-haired girl with tanned skin. "And tomorrow you'll be cleaning that 'what' up. I saw what you wrote on his back, and you should be ashamed for it. Lirael is not an 'S.M.D.O.W," whatever that means!"

"Shield maiden deprived of weapons," Elrohir replied. Elladan punched him in the rib.

"Looks like three essays per each pair of ears, boys," Glorfindel said harshly, laying the girl down next to Arwen.

"Ah, but see," Elladan said nervously, "that's not a _bad_ thing, it technically means she's good with a sword."

"Sh! You'll wake her," the King warned.

Glorfindel's face broke into a sudden smile when he met the Elflord's eyes, and the two of them lost all annoyance with the twins, as they exchange a long-postponed embrace. "_Ellen sila lumennen omietieve_." (A star shines on the hour of hour meeting)

"Late though it is," Glorfindel added, with a grin. They chatted for a bit, until finally, Elladan interrupted with an unusually large yawn.

"Ai!" Thranduil exclaimed. "It is so late! You are tired, come, I will show you your rooms."

"Should we wake her?' Elrohir asked, pointing to the sleeping Lirael.

"No, leave her, she'll be fine," Thranduil answered. "I'll bring her a blanket. She'll be fine, and my room is not far. Besides, if we put her in her room, she's sure to wake up. It's got a view of the forest," he added to their questioning glances. Glorfindel smiled at the memory of a 7-year-old girl going on her first adventure; she had been out in the meadows, with the twins, on a picnic, when she fell asleep. Later, he had laid her on a horse and attended to the twins' nature hike. As soon as they reached the forest, the girl had awoke with cries of 'voices' and 'animals'. Turned out, she had felt the energy of the forest, and could feel the spirits within it.

Over the years, her instinct had improved much, and Glorfindel wondered her mother to have been part-tree for that.

"Good night, little one," he whispered before following Thranduil out of the room.

"_Adar! Help me!" _Legolas thrashed about in his sleep. _The dark thing came closer and closer, bearing a bloody knife; it's evil smirk was ugly and deformed. But suddenly it began to change…its greenish unshaped ears became fair and pointed and its expression turned soft for a moment. "Adar!" Legolas screamed, leaping up. It changed again, and the King's expression was hard and bold. As he held out the bloody knife for his son to take. Then the face began to change again. "No! Adar, don't leave!" Black claws drew around the knife and held it in plunging-position._

Legolas awoke with a cry, wet with sweat, and was grateful that morning's first light had already drifted through his window. He sat up and surveyed his bare hands. What would they look like in a hundred years' time? Would they still be empty?

He shuddered at the thought of a long pointed metal monster, meant to bite flesh and pierce bone. Even daggers and long-knives made him uneasy. He scolded himself for being weak. Weak, and unable; these people deserved to die, those who threatened light. They had done so much wrong, he should send them out without a second thought.

Confused and angry, Legolas dressed quickly, thinking all the while how brave his father was, and how he had never so much as hesitated to do justice unto those who threatened his kingdom. _I'll just go out to the ocean and take a walk,_ he concluded finally, wanting so much to let it go.

He stepped lightly down stairs and out to the King's Hall. He was half-way to the gates when suddenly his sharp ears picked up a faint murmuring. He spun around in his steps and began to edge around carefully. Into the first sitting-room he went, to see a familiar young girl stretched out among pillows and blankets.

His spirits lifted quickly onto the winds of joy, which he cast away his worries to abruptly. "Lirael!" he cried, and then his hand flew to his mouth as she stirred. Rather than wake her, he tip-toed closer to look at her. She looked far more delicate and lady-like than he remembered. No longer the little girl who had sewn and cut her best skirts into odd-fitting trousers merely for the sake of climbing trees.

Legolas smiled, remembering how annoyed he had been with her as children, for following him everywhere and tattle-tailing on every one of his dangerous deeds. But only, he told himself, when they were **really** dangerous.

"Mmmm," she mumbled again, stirring. Her lids fluttered open to reveal dark wide eyes. She blinked several times in the light from the windows, and her gaze focused on him at last. "Le-Legolas!" she gasped out, struggling to get up.

"Let's take a walk," he suggested, in the midst of their greeting.

"Okay," Lirael agreed, slightly startled by this sudden change of subjects.

"Things have changed," he explained."

**R&R please. Oh and I don't own anything. Duh.**


	3. Always

Chapter 2;

"Are you sure I shouldn't change first?" Lirael asked, self-consciously as they passed the servants-quarters; many of the younger maids were eyeing her curiously for her uncombed hair and rugged image. Her skirts were slightly muddy and torn from riding.

"No," Legolas said simply. He gave her a pleading look and she understood. Their meeting was to go untold of, but it was important all the same. They walked in silence the rest of the distance to the ocean. It was not far, for Mirkwood bordered this sea, and it was one of much beauty.

Its turquoise color was dotted with white lines of foam, and each wave that rolled up and caressed the shore left a swooshing sound behind it as it retreated, reminding Lirael that no matter what hardships she may face later in life, she would always be able to retreat to this beautiful spot with one of her best friends at her side. And that there were White Shores beyond, waiting for both of them, so never would they ever truly leave the earth, they would always be in the same bond of friendship, whether or not they were skipping about the corridors of their own homes, they would always reunite in the end.

The two stood in silence for a while, hand-in-hand, their hair flying out behind in the wind, their eyes firmly kept on the perilous water realm in front of them, breathing in the salty scent with relish.

"Well, what is it Las?" Lirael said at length, squeezing his hand and feeling his tenseness.

"We're growing up," he answered bitterly.

"We've been all along," Lirael was confused; why would Legolas call her first thing in the morning just to state an acknowledged fact?

"But this is different," he insisted. "Adar's already asking me…what weapon I want to—I mean, it's not—I never asked for—I'm a prince, but—" his voice trailed off, edgy and wavering. He pulled away from her and turned so she would not see him cry.

Lirael's face broke into a sympathetic smile. She strode forward and put a gentle, reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Melon nin, I fear it too. I fear leaving these safe boundaries, alike you. But worse than that I fear the whip. In my hand or anyone else's." She tilted her head to see him better. She wasn't helping.

"I don't have a choice," he pointed out, his voice cracking more than once as the tears began to form. She took him in her arms, but he felt even more humiliated. Hot and angry at himself for succumbing to grief so easily.

_I am weak. That's why_, he told himself, resentment filling his veins at every corner of his body.

"But you must remember, Las," Lirael cooed, holding her friend at shoulder-length. "You will always return here. No matter what, you will always end at home. With the ones you love. And that's why we have to fight."

"But what if," he stuttered back. "Something happens, and I—" he couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence. It was not only death he feared, but failing his duty as a warrior as well, and as a future king, as his father's firstborn.

"You will not," Lirael said firmly. And she said it with such dignity, such sureness, that both of them believed her. "I am your best friend, Las. A sister! And while I might not be permitted to fight, I am a girl, and I can learn healing. I will go with you. I will, Las. And I will be there to pick you up and dust you off wherever you are. I will, by Illuvutar, I swear I will."

"Really?" Legolas whispered. And he felt something else in him then. Something different than what he had been accustomed to those days. Something that lifted him and tugged on the ends of his mouth. Hope.

He lunged forward and hugged his 'sister', this time in her arms with pride and happiness.

"On a—lighter note," Lirael muttered, slightly flushed. She was very stable emotionally, and felt overwhelmed at such a profound and expressive moment. "I got you Mithril for your ceremony," she said awkwardly. "I hope you like it. When you start training, you shouldn't get hurt. Although if you keep growing I dunno how long it'll fit. Sorry, Las, I didn't have measurements."

"You have already given me a greater gift, Lei. And I can't ever hope to repay you for it. Estel, Lei. Locked tight inside of me. Hannon le." (thank you)

_Later…_

"Legolas, are you up yet?" Thranduil shouted up. King though he was, he was not above fatherly fits. "Evenstar is here! The twins and Lirael as well! You're keeping us waiting! Hurry! Rima!" (Run.)

"Sorry Ada!" Legolas apologized quickly, and ran down in new shining silver robes to greet his friends.

Arwen was looking lovelier than usual, and the twins were, well, more in their element of naughtiness than anything else. Lirael was looking radian; now that she had washed, she looked more humane(or elf-like?)

Legolas hugged Arwen tightly, though suddenly bashful over how lovely she was looking now she had grown more. He clapped the twins on the back, and kissed Lirael's hand in a joke. "My lady," he breathed.

She colored and when everyone laughed loudly, contented herself with fidgeting with her dress's sash.

"Ahh, it seems just yesterday we had to put this lot in time-out for dying the chef's robes pink, isn't it, Glor?" Thranduil snorted, becoming more at ease than Legolas had ever seen him.

"Yes, it does," Glorfindel responded. "Though Arwen and Legolas were cross because it was mostly the twins' idea. Lirael, as I recall it, was just happy to be in the same room as Legolas and Arwen!"

Legolas grinned boyishly and looked to Lirael, with whom he shared a knowing look. Thranduil announced breakfast and the others started off, Arwen taking her by the hand, but Glorfindel noticed, and thought, _There'll be something strong between them in coming years._

However, he did not share this thought with the King, for he, being determined and thick-skinned would surely find uncomfortable ways to enhance their romance, while it was only, or at least mostly, friendship.

Most of the day, the five of them did not do much, but wandered about aimlessly, saying little in anticipation for the next day. Legolas, though Arwen asked him several times how he was feeling about the whole thing, did not voice his worries to the others.

_They wouldn't understand. Even Arwen already knows how to handle a sword. Besides, it's mostly okay now,_ he reasoned, clapping as Elrohir turned his seventh cartwheel in a row.

"Let's get some sweets," he suggested suddenly. "I'm feeling in the mood for a sugar-cake. You, Arwen?"

"Same," Arwen replied, sliding off the gazebo's railing.

"Twins?"

"Er, how bout—"

"Some toffees?" Elladan finished.

"Okay. Lirael?"

"Ginger!" The others wailed.

"Lei, it stings! I simply cannot see how you eat the stuff," Arwen told her.

"I like it!" Lirael protested. "It shocks the tongue, and it's fun to eat!"

"Okay, but we're not touching it," Legolas laughed. He knew of his friend's love for spice, but he himself had low tolerance for much of it. Even pepper and salt, when piled higher than usual, made his eyes water.

"Gandalf, I'm glad you've come," the King greeted, sitting in front of the old wizard.

"Yes. Not I nor Lord Elrond would miss tomorrow, I assure you Thranduil, Elf Lord. And he will be along soon, I expect. But today I come with not only well-wishes, but with news."

"Gandalf," Thranduil sighed. "It is Legolas' birthday and aging ceremony tomorrow. Can we not forget our heavy worries for now, at least?"

"This has not to do with any member of your house, King Thranduil," Gandalf said sharply. "In fact, she does not belong to any house."

"Lirael," the king caught on quickly.

"Yes. Her mother was not an elf, it seems."

"But—the signs—the ears…Gandalf, we were all sure that—" Thranduil spluttered, losing his kingliness for an moment.

"She was an elf-god. Yes, Lord Thranduil. She was one of the Valinor. Or rather, the Valaquenta in general. They created her not by normal means, but by their own magic. She was sent here with each of their gifts, with the exception of outer-beauty from Yavanna, Manwe's spouse. She was sent to be a healer. More powerful than any on Middle-Earth. She was sent with an art so ancient, even the elves did not know it. She has not beauty because she must, in times of war, go unnoticed. If everyone were to find out, then her talents would be overused. She would be exhausted, and therefore, as consolance, taken back by Them."

And the room emptied of all previous happiness. Both the wizard and the king knew what must happen in Lirael's coming years….

**R&R. Sorry for the cliff-hanger, but it was inevitable. Know this is short, but I can't help it…I have to keep the parts in proportion! Review!**


	4. A change in plans

Chapter 3; Decisions and Deeds

"I stand here, on this day," the mighty King held up a bejeweled crown to his son's head, "to crown Legolas Greenleaf Thranduillon," Legolas lifted his head, "as not only an Elf-Prince, but an Mirkwood's proud Elf-warrior. May he keep the precious forests and rivers safe with blood or with bargain. Let his training begin."

Legolas looked out into the cheering crowd, searching for a face he had known in his childhood years. He got a small smile from Arwen, and was reassured. Now it was time for his speech.

"Friends and Family here today," he began, searching the crowd for another familiar face. Ah. The twins grinned and gave him thumbs up. "I am Legolas Thranduillon, prince of Mirkwood. And I promise to faithfully protect and hold pride in this beautiful land. On the blood of me, my forefathers and my fellow soldiers, I will not lose faith in this land…a free land." It was short, but sweet and affective. Applause rang out louder than ever. Legolas scanned the frontline to see a golden-haired elleth with bright piercing turquoise eyes. Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien, Mirkwood's sister-nation, was there beside Arwen, who was her granddaughter. Also there was Elrond, who beamed at him with pride.

And Gandalf the Grey could not go unnoticed, so when the ceremonial part of the celebration ended, Legolas swept by dancing couples to see him and a dark-haired boy conversing.

"Estel!" he cried.

"Mae Govannen, Melon nin," Estel laughed, and hugged him in a brotherly embrace.

Gandalf congratulated Legolas heartily enough. "Well done, Legolas," he said, but there was a knowing look in his eye than made the elf-prince hesitate before replying, "Thank you, Sir Gandalf Greyhame."

"Tell me," Gandalf said, after Estel had gone to talk to the twins. "how do you fare on these days, Legolas?"

"Very good. I've been very lucky so far this year…the twins haven't included me in any of their stupid schemes yet," Legolas said in effort to make a joke.

"And your friends? Lirael?" Gandalf pressed. Legolas answered cheerfully that she was alright, not understanding the meaning of the question. Gandalf studied him with a hardened expression.

-Twenty years later-

"Excuse me. Sorry," Legolas mumbled as he squeezed through the crowd, smiling at those who congratulated him. They had won the battle at Fort Diadel. His first serious, fate-deciding battle.

"Gandalf, what has happened?" he asked when he had finally caught up with the old wizard. They had been talking when the man had wandered off, mumbling about bad tidings.

"Legolas, I think we owe you and others an explanation." Gandalf pushed open a door and inside it, Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel, Lady Urwen, Lord Celeborn, Lord Thranduil, Arwen, Elrohir, Elladan, Estel and several others all sat opposite a quivering figure.

"I have contacted Saruman, and he is not able to attend," Gandalf announced, taking his place with the others.

"Sit here, Prince Legolas," Lady Urwen, who was seated next to her daughter. Legolas smiled warmly at Arwen, who, in his absence, had grown even more beautiful and lady-like. They had already exchanged their greetings earlier, so he didn't say anything to her, or the twins.

However, there was one in the room he had not seen in a while. A young elleth with dark eyes, tanned skin, and black wavy hair was trembling on a chair across from her elders.

_Lirael,_ Legolas realized at last. For she had grown very lovely now; her once chubby cheeks had drawn back to show high cheekbones and her skin tone had smoothed out and become fairer. Her hair was softer, and her figure was cut well, an hourglass that clearly marked her as a young woman.

"Sit here brother," Arwen said softly. Estel sat next to her, well-toned and muscled, and he parted to make way for him on the was taken by her softness, but he wished he could sit near Lirael and comfort her.

She was staring across at her elders looking delicate, scared and small in such a state that Legolas had never seen her before.

"We are here," Gandalf began, "to discuss an important and somewhat grave issue regarding Lirael. Prince Legolas may join if he wishes. As it is such a joyful day for you, Thranduillon, I do not blame you if you wish not to."

"Good. Now, to this day, Lirael has been known as Lirael Evenstar, under adoption of Elrond Evenstar. We have found today, however, that she is not a half-elf….as a matter of fact, as she has been told, she is not an elf at all."

Lirael put her head in her hands and gave a sob. "That's—that's not—t-true," she stuttered, avoiding Legolas' gaze but looking pleadingly at Lady Urwen. "Nana…it's not!"

"Do not weep, child," Lord Elrond interjected. "You parents are not elves, maybe…they are elf-gods! You should be proud. The Valiquenta created you with their own hands and sent you here on this earth for a purpose—you are to learn the art of war, and—"

"She cannot fight!" Legolas interrupted. "She should not fight! She is an elleth, and she is allowed rights! Lirael, you do not have to do as they say!"

"Legolas," Thranduil said warningly.

"Adar, King Thranduil, not the law in Mirkwood nor the law in Rivendell forces her to—"

"Listen child!" Lord Elrond told him. "She is the child of the gods! She is well-looked after. And the reason she must learn the arts of war is not to fight, but for self-defense. She will be a healer. And just as it is foretold that Legolas Greenleaf will be the best archer and Elven warrior in all the land, it is said that she will be the best healer. You must not contradict the gods, young one. It is not our right. We must, instead, guide her on her path. And understand this; not one person who is here today may tell this secret. Nor may they use her talents to their advantage. She chooses for herself who she wants to serve."

"Well, I think that takes care of that," Lady Urwen stated after some time. Everyone began to clear out, looking solemn and sordid while at the same time awed and relieved.

Estel and Arwen were the first ones to comfort Lirael. "It'll be alright, Lei," Estel whispered, trying to give her a kiss on the cheek, but she pushed him away and hid her face in her hands. After she had drawn away from everyone, including the twins, Lady Galadriel whispered some words of prayer and comfort in her ear and left Legolas and Lirael alone in the room.

She didn't look up at him, but Legolas was not offended. He understood how confused and frustrated she was, and from experience he knew that she did not like to be watched while crying. He wondered, then, what force it was that drove him to sit down next to her and put his arm round her shoulders.

"Lirael," he sighed. "It will be alright. It will all come clear. What?" She was tugging on his robes, fingers trembling.

"Can we go outside?" she rasped. Legolas did not need to be asked again. He took her hand. Now it was his turn to comfort her.

When they were standing together on the shore hand-in-hand, breathing more freely, she broke down. "I'm sorry, Legolas."

"What?" he asked, startled and confused. She pulled away, and the wind began to blow her dress out in front of her. Her hair clouded into her face and she looked out into the stars.

"This should be a happy day for you…you should be inside with your friends and family…not here. I must learn to control myself."

"Lirael, you are as much my family as anyone else," he said, and pulled her into a hug. "You look pretty," he whispered into her ear.

She giggled. "Shut up. I saw you looking at Arwen this morning."

"I would never dream of such a thing," he declared. "Estel and she are perfect! Besides, I didn't mean like that. I've been away so long…at this point I would be so overjoyed so as to tell the twins they look beautiful."

They exchanged a few more hugs and comforting words, and Legolas said goodnight, then continued to talk to his guests, now feeling, to his own amazement, more replenished than before. His last words to her had been,

"You made a promise to me so long ago that you would always be waiting to heal me when you became learnt. Now I promise, as a warrior, that I will protect you to whatever lengths." And Legolas prided himself on finally being able to comfort someone properly. Only Lirael and Arwen had ever been able to wipe away all of someone's worries with a few words.

It was late when Legolas finally undressed for bed, and he was almost asleep when he heard a knock on the door. He moaned mentally and pulled on a shirt before answering, "come in."

It was Lord Celeborn. "Congratulations, Legolas," he said, as they walked up and down the corridor together. "You did well at Fort Diadel."

"Every warrior out there put in their blood, sweat and tears, my lord. It was not just me," Legolas replied graciously. Celeborn smiled. Legolas and his father were alike in one thing; no matter what their state, sleepy, weak, at a loss for blood, they never forgot their decency. That was good; it would help.

"That as it is, Legolas, I think you should stay back awhile. No, not your own fault. I think you should coach Lirael. She needs guidance and a good teacher. I think you might serve well as both." He paused to see the young elf nod understandingly, and proceeded with the details. Legolas' last question was, "when do we start?"

"Next week, after her birthday…haha, I presume by the look on your face that you haven't got her anything yet? Well, if I might suggest, she and my granddaughter have taken to rummaging shops for what they call, 'a decent pair of earrings'…perhaps you can make that happen? Good night, Prince Legolas."

Legolas grinned. This wouldn't be too bad, hopefully.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks loads for the reviews, pplz, you are awesome! Havain, Kamai6 and Ochoika, this chapter dedicated to you. Thanks so much for the kind reviews! Made my day! R&R!**

Chapter 4; Lessons in Friendship

"Good. Now read the fifth paragraph," Legolas instructed, lifting his head above the water to talk to Lirael, who was sitting under a nearby cherry tree reading aloud A Fight to the Death aloud while he swam laps around his favorite pool.

" 'I did not sleep that night lest someone should enter our camp of traitors and call us thus…what is it that a warrior swears his loyalty to? His country or his heart?' " Her voice trailed off wearily. "Las, I'm not sure I understand…Las?"

Legolas rose to the surface and said, "what?"

"What exactly does this mean?"

"It means that a warrior swears their loyalty to their country, or whomever they serve; but their leaders' views can change, and they question whether or not it's worth their blood—yes?"

"But then can't they just stop? I mean—it's their choice, isn't it?" Lirael asked, confused.

Legolas laughed mirthlessly. "It's not that simple! You're bound to one army once you reach a certain age, Lei. Lei, no, it's not like that!" Lirael looked quite stricken, and her face was changing dramatically from a chalky white to a deem crimson.

"But—that's awful…why?" she demanded. Legolas smiled in spite of himself and hoisted himself out of the pool, grabbing a towel and drying himself off a good distance away from her before responding at last,

"Because of honor. And discipline. You must have the honor to hold faith in one and only one." Uh-oh. Lirael had the same exact look on her face now that she had so many years ago when the twins had pushed her into the very same pool that Legolas had swam in that day. Harassed and hot-headed, hurt and angry, but more than anything else, stubborn.

"You'll understand when you're older," Legolas promised her, puzzled at the sudden realization that nobody had ever explained these things to Lirael before. That she had not fully understood what exactly the ceremony a few days ago had been about.

"I don't want to!" Lirael blurted. "I won't ever fight! And if someone tells me this again, I'll-I'll—"

"What will you do, Lei?" Legolas asked softly.

"I—I won't ever become a healer! I—"

"Rubbish," Legolas said rudely. "The world needs you, Lirael. Besides, no one's asking you to fight…just to defend yourself.

"Oh alright then," Lirael conceded.

"Now, tomorrow we'll be starting with the basics; hand-blocks." Legolas grinned as Lirael scowled at his patronizing tone.

"You know," she said suddenly as they walked back up to the castle. "There's a lot of names for you right now, Las. And 'pompous idiot' just makes the list."

"I try," Legolas responded sarcastically.

"I know you do."

_:)_

"Oooh, this is gonna be so good!" Elrohir said, rubbing his hands together.

"Awesome to be exact," Elladan put in. "It's perfect! Wait…so what exactly do I write on the note?"

"'Dear Lirael, meet me in under the Snogging tree at 10 pm tonight.—Legolas.' "

"D'you know how to forge it?"

"Yeah, gimme. Now, watch and learn, little brother. I spent our entire childhood years observing his handwriting in school…not that I could read it at the time. And then Glorfindel accused me of cheating, but, still…."

"Cheating? You?"

"I know, ridiculous, right? Okay, it's done. Now, get bordered paper."

"Why does it have to be bordered?"

"So that it looks genuine. Girls always use pretty paper…something wrong with the color white? I dunno either."

"Here, you write."

"No way!"

"Why not?"

"Cuz girls' handwriting is…neat! I can't do that."

"Urgh…but I can't either!"

"Arwen?"

"Nah, she's too…good."

"Then how bout that nice maiden we met in town yesterday?"

"I think you mean maid," a voice interrupted.

"Legolas! Uh…how much did you hear?"

"Enough to know you're planning some exploit on some poor village girl. Shame, boys! I thought you had finally matured."

"We have," Elrohir protested. "And then we un-matured."

Legolas rolled his eyes. "Save it, Ro. I have no desire to hear of your exploits, and Dan, you should keep your pathetic love-life to yourself."

With that, he pranced off to join Glorfindel and his father. Elladan stared after him, looking horrorstruck.

"You think we shouldn't play it?" Elrohir asked.

"Nah, he deserves this one. Look, just leave a note in all-caps, same as the other, but signed different, okay? We'll spray some of Arwen's perfume on it later."

"Right-o. Legolas thinks he's such a prince!"

"He is a prince. He's acting like a princess, though. Must be looove!"

"Who's he seeing now?" came yet another voice.

"What didya hear?" the twins asked in unison. Lirael shrugged.

"Las likes someone. That's pretty clear. You know, I feel sorry for the poor thing, he—" but she never got to finish, because the twins made off, sniggering and coughing like anything. "Really," Lirael remarked. "Those boys! All boys are just…ugh."

_Hi there_

Legolas stared at the note, befuddled and awestruck. "What on earth?" he muttered. "I don't remember Lei using the word 'snogging' before. Or going outside past 9..then again, it's a _tree_, so—but why…? She—I mean…since when does…? She's a good girl!" Legolas scratched his head.

Right outside his door, two little devils heard his words perfectly. "Time for plan B," Elrohir said deviously.

"Legolas, did you, perchance, find a note here, all covered in hearts and flowers?" Elladan asked loudly.

"Well, yes, but—"

"It wasn't for you. Sorry, we were the messengers…we messed up. Give it back." Elrohir snickered into his arm, watching his brother's genious act from behind the door.

Realization dawned on Legolas, and his mouth opened with surprise then shut with indignation. "Who's she seeing?" he demanded.

"Oh, that guy—er, Lindel. The kitche-boy. He's quite handsome, but me and Ro got on his bad side a few days ago, when we, er—'accidentally' put purple food-coloring in the chicken soup. Give it to him for us? Thanks loads, brother!" And the horns grew longer as they scurried away.

_HI_

"Twins," Lirael thought instinctively. Legolas might have been fooled by their ludicrous act, but she for one had grown up with the little beasts, and she knew enough to read the signs;

One, Las didn't ever use the word 'snog'…it was 'kiss' and often he was too shy for even that!

Two, the 'snogging tree' was the twins' name for the thing from a past prank involving water and laughing-gas.(Me; you don't wanna know.)

Three, Las still hadn't developed a nice-looking signature…this wasn't his!

Four, did someone else smell perfume? (Me; yeah, Ro screwed up!)

-_LATER_

"Las," Lirael began.

"Lei, it's late out, what're you doing here?"

"Las, I got the twins' note, did you?"

"Listen, I don't trust—wait, what?"

"The twins set us up," Lirael explained impatiently. "You didn't _actually_ think **I** wrote that, did you?"

"Well—"

"Look, I've got a hunch they're around here somewhere, just look around will you?...aha!"

"Uh-oh." He twins wailed.

**Yes, yes, it was short, kill me. No, don't, but I'm busy packing, I have to go on vacation. If you expect Lego mace, there'll be some, I guess…but later!**


End file.
